


Equal Partnership

by merae2888



Series: Adulting [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8542468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae2888/pseuds/merae2888
Summary: He’s smiling when he answers; she can tell even though he uses his bossy voice. “We were right in the middle of a lesson.” 
“It’s time for recess,” Clarke tells him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone that's been reading! I hope you enjoy this newest installment as much as I did writing it!

It’s a mission anyone could’ve taken but Bellamy and Clarke jump up to volunteer first. No one looks surprised and no one objects. 

In the apocalypse, a day trip to collect tree sap is a date. 

Clarke gets comfy in the front seat, propping her feet up on the dash and leaning her head out the window. The sunlight makes her hair look even more golden. Bellamy is having a hard time keeping his eyes off her. 

He clears his throat and she lolls her head against the seat to smile at him. “You wanna learn how to drive this thing?”

“Why?” Clarke asks, crossing her arms and smirking at Bellamy. He’s wearing the sunglasses they’d found a few days ago and his hair is getting all fluffed up from the breeze. He’s got his arm out the window, bent at the elbow so he can drum his fingertips against the roof, his other arm draped lazily over the wheel. It’s an excellent view. “I have you to drive me around.”

He snorts and brings his hand to the top of her head so he can scratch at her scalp. “I’m your boyfriend, not your chauffer.” 

“Do you mean to tell me that being your girlfriend doesn’t guarantee me a ride to wherever I want, whenever I want?”

He huffs, trying to sound angry but he’s smiling. He loves it when she calls herself his girlfriend. “As much as I love being at your beck and call all the time, it’s not very practical.”

She closes her eyes again and turns back to the sun. He trails his fingers through her hair, down to the nape of her neck. “Fine,” she sighs. “But you have to teach me.”

He hums and squeezes the back of her neck. “If you insist.”

When they’re ready to head home with the barrel of sap that they collected and sticky fingers, Bellamy moves the driver’s seat as far back as he can. “Let’s do this, Griffin.”

She looks extremely unimpressed as he pats his knee. “You want me to sit on your lap like a toddler?”

Bellamy drops his head back against the seat. “Well, not when you say it like that.”

She laughs as she climbs into the rover, nudging Bellamy’s legs apart so she can fit between them. His thighs bracket her and she shimmies her ass into the seat until she’s pressed tightly against his groin. It’s the most room she’s going to get and she’s too close to the wheel but Bellamy wraps his arm around her waist and kisses the back of her neck and she sucks in a deep breath. “You’re gonna be fine.” 

There’s no road, just open, sprawling land stretched out before her. Bellamy guides her hand to the key dangling from the ignition and then he uses his foot to nudge hers to the pedal. “It’s sensitive,” he whispers suddenly into her ear and she kind of jolts. “The clutch,” he clarifies and his breath is tortuously hot against her ear. “The clutch is sensitive so just go slow until you get used to it.”

The pressure of his hands on her thighs is her indication to get moving. She turns the key; the whole rover rattles. Clarke’s been in the passenger seat plenty of times when Bellamy’s started it but she’s never been in the driver’s seat. It’s different, almost like riding a horse. She’s in charge of this thing; it’s oddly disturbing and empowering at the same time.

Bellamy rubs his hands down her thighs and squeezes her knees. It hurts and tickles and she jumps and shoves back at him. “Stop that.” 

“You’re so tense,” he says with a soft chuckle as he draws his palms up her legs and back down to her knees again and again. “Relax,” he says, warm breath reassuring on her skin. “Driving’s fun.”

He pets at her thighs some more and she feels his chest inhale and exhale against her back. She puts the rover in drive and presses at the accelerator too fast. They jolt forward and Bellamy tightens his arms around her. “Easy.”

It takes a few more tries before she can keep them moving forward at a steady pace, Bellamy murmuring instructions and encouragements in her ear. He urges her to go faster but she just shakes her head. Moments like this are hard to come by so she keeps them at a lower speed, draws out the journey home as long as possible. Bellamy gets it. She can sense that he’s smiling. The world always looks brighter when he’s smiling.

Luckily, Bellamy was right. Driving is fun and easy and that’s a very good thing because he’s distracting her with his constant touching, running his hands over her legs, tapping over her hipbones, snaking his fingers beneath her shirt and petting at her spine. 

When they get to the river and the two fallen tree logs that masquerade as a bridge, she puts the rover in park. “You got this,” he says, confused. “They’re sturdy.”

“I know.” She twists around and kisses him, sinking her fingers into his hair and smiling at the happy sigh he makes. She takes her time with this too. 

When the angle starts to get uncomfortable, he tries to help her move so she can straddle him like they both want but there’s not enough room and her back hits the steering wheel. She groans and starts climbing into the backseat, unbuckling his seat belt as she goes. “You coming?”

He’s smiling when he answers; she can tell even though he uses his bossy voice. “We were right in the middle of a lesson.” 

“It’s time for recess,” Clarke tells him.

She pats the backseat and he sits down and then lies down when she pushes at his shoulder. She climbs over him but doesn’t let her full weight drop like he’d been expecting. He threads his fingers into her hair when she starts kissing his neck, sliding her lips and teeth over the skin, biting gently so he grunts deep in his throat. It’s difficult to get his shirt off, because he has to lean up but she doesn’t want to stop kissing him but they manage and he kicks his boots off. Clarke sits up and studies his chest, tracing the lines of muscles and bones and the deep dip of his hipbones with light, promising fingers, scratching at the dark path of hair leading down into his pants.

Bellamy folds his arms behind his head so he can watch Clarke take his pants and underwear off, lifting his hips helpfully so she can slide both down his legs. She’s frowning as if it’s hard work, the last golden rays of sunlight illuminating her from behind so she looks like some sort of angelic savior. 

His cock twitches toward her. 

Her hand is hot and he sucks in a breath as she starts to stroke him. She thumbs the tip, spreading his precum over the head and getting some on her palm so she can stroke his shaft. She builds her rhythm, listening to the hitches in his breathing for cues to what he wants. She hasn’t done this a lot and despite Bellamy’s constant reassurances that she’s a master at every aspect of sex, she knows she’s not as experienced as some of the girl’s he’s been with and she wants to get better, wants to drive him wild with pleasure and desire the way he does for her.

They are all about equal partnership, after all.

“Clarke,” he groans when her mouth gets involved. She licks lightly from the base to the tip, finishing off with a strong suck. His hips rise so she does it again before closing her lips around him. He’s huge, firm and heavy on her tongue. She works at him, speeding up the motions of her head and mouth, using her hand to stroke the part of him she can’t fit into her mouth and then rolling his balls in her fingers. “Fucking hell, babe,” he whimpers as he tangles his fingers into her hair at the base of her skull. “I’m close.” He tries to pull her off him but Clarke’s as stubborn as he is sometimes and just slows down, sucking until her cheeks hollow in and she bows forward so she can take him deep enough that he hits the back of her throat and that does it. She keeps her hand on him, touching him lightly while while he shudders, and licks filthily into his mouth, the taste of himself on her tongue a little overwhelming. 

Things get fuzzy for a second. 

When he’s able to focus again, Clarke’s cleaning up the mess on him and she’s smiling, adorably smug about it.

He grins. “A-plus, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Screw diamonds, Comments are a girl's best friend.


End file.
